Today is September 1st, and we all know what that means. It is time to clean your guns, purchase ammunition, get your camo covered stool, and get your camouflaged clothing out.
You will need a place to hide to do this killing, preferably along a fence row that borders a grain field that has been harvested. Another favorite place to kill is close to a pond or standing body of water. Your victim needing to drink, does not like to drink from running water such as a creek.
Normally you will team up with others to do this killing. I am not sure why this killer will not go it alone, are they afraid? Possibly, but more likely they have the need to have others see the killing shot.
This morning I went outside and started my mooring stroll. Although it was light enough to see it was not yet sun rise. I began to walk slowly down the street and as I was meditating on the meaning of life and other important topics, I was suddenly aware that it was officially sunrise.
How did I know it was sunrise, you ask? The gun fire started.
It is about one mile as the, “Dove flies” to the city limit. It is amazing the amount of shooting one hears on opening morning of Dove season. What was surprising to me was that occasionally there would be a shot that sounded as if it were only a couple blocks away. I hope there are not idiots shooting doves in the city limits.
The entire time I was walking I could hear the shot guns going off.
Imagine if you will, a 200 pound man with a 12 gage shot gun, camo on and hiding in the brush along a fence row, waiting to ambush the unsuspecting 4 ounce dove.
Yes I use to participate in this annual killing, but no longer. Arriving home after you kill the doves, you basically take your thumbs and rip out the dove’s breast. My first wife would take about 8 dove breasts and put them in a pan of dressing and bake them. Properly cooked, dove is good.
I hope your holiday is better than the dove’s.
Don Ford
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